


Forest Moon

by AkaiShinda (Ayleid)



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Werewolf Senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayleid/pseuds/AkaiShinda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gift to Kelbora and Pie for their incredible SkyrimAU. Thank you! This is just a drabble about their interactions, after reading Kel's fanfics in which Alfred is in werewolf form, I couldn't resist. Here, I hope you'll like it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forest Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kelbora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelbora/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fidelitas](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/42307) by General Kitty Girl. 



> I based most of Alfred's gestures and reactions on how my pup communicates with me. After reading Kel's fanfictions I hope this will be accurate.

1\. Forest scene. Full-moon.

He could be called cruel, merciless, power hungry. Those titles he wore and if they were thrown at him as insults he didn’t even blink at them anymore. Thief, yes, sometimes he was. He snatched things he needed when the shopkeeper or Alfred wasn’t keeping an eye on him.

One of these recent treasures had been a piece of hide, full of symbols he swore he had seen somewhere already. Hence not knowing yet that did they have any significance or not, Arthur hid the leather among his notes and began the torturous translating from ancient and damaged runes to his own language.

The whole road up here in this man-forsaken valley, the whole process of lighting fire by Alfred and the fact that his lover stripped to change his form and let the bones of his other self click into their places... slipped over the occupied mind of the mage.

 Sniffing, loud sniffing, his hair blown from behind his ear, dog smell, quiet whining and quick thumps disturbed his concentration as a tail was being wagged just above the ground.

"Stop it."

The thumping stopped, only to start again 10 seconds later.

"I said, stop it."

Sniffing again, nuzzling, Arthur's blood pressure rose.

"I thought we were over this already."

Soft, gentle whining, sniffing, demanding sniffing, humming, _I know you know that I know you are listening_ , a heavy head leans beside his thigh and desperate, oh so sad and abandoned whale eyes glance up at him, _I’m here too,_ almost apologizing for existence, probably he is hungry and alone and cold and starving for attention...

and is being kicked nearly in the nose for that.

For which, the whining wouldn't stop again.

_How could you?_

_How can you?_

He shifts, rolls, _thump_ , _dum, dum¸_ walks over and _thump,_ sits down right next to Arthur, on the log.

He clenched the jaw with the sharp fangs inside and knowing exactly when Arthur would look up, the large wolf glanced away from his form. No, he wasn’t watching, at all.

_You’re rude._

He just wanted to tell something, probably. Something incredibly important, Arthur would roll his eyes at and grieve the train of thoughts he lost before the distraction. The large furry creature sighed, rather scoffed and readjusted the fangs in his mouth again, making that sound and noise that always let Arthur knew that yes, there _was_ something. He looked up again, glaring thunders and stings at the innocent lycan who lowered his head a few feet to be on the same level with him, ears flushed back in submission and guilt.

_But why? Only the book...?_

At the questioning, judging rise of Arthur’s eyebrow the “beast” unintentionally released another soft mewl, glancing on the ground then back at the Breton.

_So rude. It hurts._

It _hurt him._ His soul.

He just wanted to tell something! It was important! Really, this time!

“Yes?”

He already forgot the last two phrases from the note, he had to rub his temples and focus a little, not to lose the images of signs burnt in his memory. Alfred stood and pointed at the forest, tail moving in tandem with his moves and slightly wagging in excitement.

“I’m not your nanny, you can go.”

Head-shake. That was not the point. Another theatrical scoff.

_He was bored._

“Go and hunt, then. Make yourself useful. Bring us dinner.”

When the ears flipped forth and thus created an entirely different (longer, curious, young) image of his partner, Arthur rolled his eyes at the ridiculous, endearing sentiments that came to him. The large creature bared its teeth and clenched them again, a sign that both of the souls inside registered the meaning behind the words Arthur used. _Go, Hunt, Useful, Dinner._

 _No, no_ , headshake.

 Arthur lowered the book in his hand onto his knees to observe and watch how Alfred re-phrased the suggestion so that his inner beast could fully comprehend it the way it was meant to, even though he saw no shift or change in the shade of bright yellow in the eyes.

“Make yourself useful, “he began, his confident and obviously demanding, Alpha voice interrupting all arguments that confused the two souls in the merged body. Consciously using the exact words that would ease the human soul’s fight against the feral instincts, yet letting him understand the need for proper dinner that suited his own needs as well, the pack leader continued. “Go to the nearby creek, fish and bring us dinner. I would be delighted to have trout, perhaps. I’ll stay and keep guard, if you hear or smell something, come back.”

A growl arrived as an answer, one that Arthur couldn’t fully interpret. Was the beast snarling against Alfred or was it just the man’s usual reassuring dismissal that he’ll be alright?

He didn’t realize he had a deep, troubled frown on his face until he stood and called after the other, voice booming among the silent trees.

“Alfred?”

The lycan’s ears flipped back in an instant as he turned back, eyes glancing up and down from the figure of the dominant one.

“Answer me, you twit.”

Calling him twit, calling him names... such a large-grown creature, others told their kids about his kind at night, describing him as monster, the threat to humanity... whereas...

“Stop it, stop, you’re gross!”

He was back faster than Arthur could have finished his thought, inhuman speed taking over his senses. Unconsciously he wished to lick Arthur wherever it would happen before retreating his tongue and apologetically letting himself pushed away. The sparks, the light in those sky-blue eyes and the witty, pretended grumpiness in the green melted again.

He sniffed and nuzzled Arthur’s hair, now on all fours and purposefully bumped into the mage from behind a little, only playing and reassuring his friend as he walked around him, to be directly in front of the Breton. In vain the blonde attempted another frown, even a scowl when he felt Alfred’s forehead press into his chest. The huge canine practically pressed its head onto his ribcage, eyes blinking merely centimetres from Arthur’s hands, ears flipped down and held down tightly, nearly sinking into the thick fur of the werewolf.

These times, especially these times it was hard to tell what message he tried to convey. Was it Alfred, yearning for Arthur’s presence, warmth and scent, was it his human need of reassurance, forgiveness, was it his sign to let Arthur know, he will be back?

Or was it the wolf? Was this a non-verbal way of submission, or asking for permission? Was this a request for a touch that could mean dozens of things? Where should he even touch him?

An ear flipped forth, then back. He was waiting for the signal.

“Stop this nonsense, tell me what do you want?”

The same ear flipped forth, then back. Forth, back. An inhuman, soft growl leaked its way from the giant’s throat, head still pushing against Arthur’s chest. The mage shook his head, now understanding that the wolf indeed wanted to let him know about something.

“Here?”

He pointed at the ear with his left hand so that from his peripheral sight Alfred could see it, and indeed, the furry creature clenched its jaw, pushing against the lithe body even more, causing the mage to take a step back and stabilize his balance. So, the ear...

“The things I do for you.”

The canine readjusted its jaw again, making that slick-and saliva covered sound before it swallowed and puffed in front of his Alpha. The seconds grew before Arthur gave in and rubbed the sensitive skin behind the ear, causing the large furry oaf to close its bright, vivid yellow eyes and sigh whereas the mage pretentiously rolled his owns, as if deep down he wasn’t enjoying this interaction.

He did, and Alfred knew this as well...

from the fact that it was just a little itchy feeling that could be helped only by caressing the ragged fur in the opposite direction, and here Arthur was, gently easing the tightness around the muscles of Alfred ear and practically giving him a short massage.

“You like it, right?”

Who could deny that?

For another person perhaps, the smirk of a werewolf would be the last image ever seen in their lives.

For Arthur, it was annoying yet reassuring at the same time, incredible, morbid but in the least threatening.

“You’re grinning again, you oaf, go and get dinner!” he pushed the large skull of the other away from himself with fluttered cheeks, how embarrassing it was after all, if people would see the Dragonborn rubbing the ear of his werewolf partner... he would never get rid of the names... he would actually re-consider the idea of being the living nightmare to the Earth. How tempting it would be...?

How many souls... his thoughts trailed, his sight even lost focus for a few moments.

Alfred raised his eyebrow and sniffed at Arthur’s hair again, as if from that he could sense the thoughts of that thick head. Something was going on in there, he knew, the beast knew as well and they both were curious? What was in there? What plan? Surprise? Present? Task?

Oh, the fishing.

He growled and bumped into Arthur again, only hearing the man’s grumpy insults reaching his back as he left for the nearby creek. He wished to arrive back soon. The Alpha would be pleased to have trout, he remembered. The memories and images of the fish appeared at his sight, he sniffed in the air and tried to identify the special kind of fish but he had to lower his head a little, closer to the ground to avoid crashing and tangling himself into the branches.

Huge, furry, dangerous, clawed, fanged, muscular, infectious...

. . .

 _There is no trout in here,_ he thought, frowning and letting the beast sigh, a nice amount of warm air melting into the chilly evening. The monster inside him grunted and shook its head before sniffing again, at that point on all fours and nearly neck-deep in the creek. Trout.

_Trout lives further up in the mountain._

_Doesn’t matter._

_He should get back to the fire before Arthur starts worrying._

_He is even more grumpy when he is worried._

_Trout, remember. He would be delighted, pleased. As all good Alphas would, he would give him reward, probably tell him he did a good job._

. . .

The appearance of the furry beast made Arthur only grunt in disapproval, quickly managing to hide all documents before the water would drip and ruin all of them while Alfred pulled the large branch of a pine tree behind himself and tossed it beside the fireplace. Cracking sounds and the smell of smoke filled their nostrils when Arthur frowned and demanded an explanation for this late arrival.

The wolf made a scoffing sound, and as the beginning of his sulking he walked over and shook his entire body in order to dry himself off easier. Without blinking, the mage lifted his arm and thus the side of his cloak before the water would reach him; merely watching in silence as the large creature settled down in the soft layers of moss and grass, showing his back to the Alpha of the pack.

“You might want to explain this, Alfred.”

Grunt. _Rude._

“Okay, I’ll have the whole bunch of fish for myself then.”

Snarl and low growling.

_You can’t eat them all yourself you are too scrawny._

“Watch me.”

He settled at the pine branch and took a fish, not making faces and disgusted phews only to prove his point before haphazardly placing the fish right beside the fire, on a flat stone. One. He almost smiled in satisfaction of this hard and definitely challenging quest when his eyes spotted the remaining amount of fish gaping at him with their empty, watching eyes.

“How many did you bring?”

_Maybe he was..._

“Were you _that_ hungry?”

Soft, barely audible whimper then a manly grunt arrived as reply.

_He was._

Now, Arthur’s fish-hating stomach twisted and immediately regretted the threat he made just then.

 


End file.
